Okay, so I watch a little too much tv. And I probably watch a LOT more forensic shows than is really healthy. I find myself being a little nervous in parking garages, on running trails through wooded areas, in my house alone at night, and you know...pretty much anywhere these days. It never seems to deter me from frequenting these places, I'm just kinda nervous being there 'cause, you know, a psychotic serial killer may be hiding there just waiting for a short woman, badly in need of; exercise, a haircut and highlights, a manicure (or at the very least-a nail file), and a complete wardrobe overhaul. I'd be just his type.
I, of course, blame my parents. I grew up watching tv shows like: "Ellery Queen Mysteries", "Quincy, M.D.", "S.W.A.T.", "Hawaii Five-O", etc., etc., etc. And my mother was an avid Agatha Christie and Mary Higgins Clark reader. So, it is a hereditary ailment. However, I realized that it had probably gone a little far when I found myself in a mild panic one day when I realized that my watch and bracelets were still sitting on my bathroom sink, and I was already in the car driving to wherever it was I was going. I couldn't turn around to get them because I was, as usual, running late...sigh. Now, I wasn't too concerned about the watch because, well, the cell-phone has a clock and it was firmly attached to my hip. The missing watch is more of just a "gosh I feel naked" kind of a feeling. The missing bracelets however, instilled a sort of mild panic. In order to fully comprehend my particular psychosis, you must first get to know my bracelets...
The first of my two bracelets is a charm bracelet. This one was given to me on my very first Mother's Day with one charm. It was a heart with the figures of a mom and a little boy on it...sigh. Then, the next Christmas, B added a double heart charm to represent the two of us. Added through the years have been: a house--for when we bought our first house; an Alpha and Omega--from the principal of the second and last school in which I ever taught; a heart that says, "Little Sister"; a holly leaf; a musical note with an ichthus (the christian fish symbol) on it--given to me by my sister because we were both singing on the worship teams at our churches at that time; a drummer boy--because I used to play percussion in the marching band in high-school; a mega-phone--because I was a cheerleader in college (don't get too excited ya'll, it was a VERY small Bible College and all 8 of us who wanted to, got to be cheerleaders for our basketball team-the only sport played at our school); a Dr. Pepper bottle--which has lost most of it's engraving due to much wear and tear, and looks more like a baseball bat these days; the Alamo--to commemorate a trip with my mom and sisters, and my first visit there; a painter's palette-because before I did the cake thing, I did the Tole Painting thing; a box of popcorn-because before they were forever banned from my diet by the cruel, cruel doctor, my favorite snack was popcorn and M&Ms--theater butter flavor only, please; a pair of baby boy shoes that marked the birth of boy #2; and pair of baby girl shoes to mark the birth of the one and only girl, and the newer version of the original "Mom and Boy" charm to mark the birth of the third, and final boy; and FINALLY, my latest edition was a margarita charm--again given to me by my sister as it was our tradition when I went to visit her in Houston, to go to a Wayne Watson concert or a tear-jerker movie, and then go out to Chili's for fajitas and margaritas. Alas, the margaritas have been taken away as well, but at least I still have my charm!
The second of my bracelets is a photo bracelet with head-shots of each of my four beautiful children.
And here is where the story gets a little creepy and you may want to call the men in the little white coats to take me for a little, um...vacation. As I realized that I had forgotten my bracelets, there were two main thoughts racing through my brain: Thought process #1 -- Oh, I need the bracelet with the kids' pictures on it! What will happen if one of them gets separated from me, and someone finds them, but won't let me have them back because I don't have a picture with me to prove they're mine???? Nevermind the pictures in my PDA, or my wallet, after all, in the panic of looking for the lost child, I might drop my purse somewhere and lose it--I need those pictures attached to my arm!!!
And thought process #2 -- What will happen if I'm in a wreck, or have a heart-attack, or a stroke, or heaven help me, I'm attacked and left for dead by the above mentioned psychotic serial killer, and the paramedics and police are trying to help me but they can't possibly do their best job if they know nothing about me??? Without my charm bracelet, how will they know that I'm a mother of four who has a man whose heart is attached to hers, that we have a mortgage to pay, that I believe that God is the First and Last, that I have big sisters who might just miss me, that I celebrate Christmas, that I like to sing songs to Jesus, that I was in the marching band, and used to be a cheerleader (this is important 'cause the cheerleaders always get better service, ya' know!), that a Dr. Pepper just might bring me out of the coma (or that I like baseball, depending on how hard they are looking at it), that I still "Remember the Alamo", that I'm an artist of sorts, and that if I am, in fact, dying, perhaps a last meal of popcorn and a margarita would be appropriate?
You see, I have watched enough "CSI" and "Without a Trace" to know that every detail is important and you never know just what tiny little piece of information might be the thing that saves a life! I just want to make sure they have as much information as is humanly possible. I'm just saying.
So, although I know that my dementia is beginning to get a bit out of control, I now lovingly refer to my arm jewelry as "my forensic bracelets".
Now, for those of you who mentioned to me that you were concerned that I hadn't posted in a few days....aren't you sorry now that you ever said such a thing??? You should be...you really should be...